Erinnerung
by Millennium Magic
Summary: To hold on to the past was like trying to hold water in a container full of holes. You could always retain some of it, but it eventually slipped past, and no matter how hard you tried, you could never get it all back. Puzzleshipping. Prideshipping.


_The title is German for "Reminiscence." I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!._

_Warnings: This story contains pre-character death, past-puzzleshipping, and prideshipping._

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Horrible things rarely happen to those who deserve it, instead returning to spite the innocent and those around them. Of course, Fate knew what she was doing. No one mortal could be so happy, so in love… There were always prices to be paid, and she delivered them with a force that many people described as catastrophic. She was brutal, quick… effective. He hated her. He foiled her every chance he got, waiting for the perfect opportunity to flaunt what he had earned for himself without her intervention. It was like he had dared her to take everything away.

She liked that. She almost respected him.

But he was _too _happy. _Too _satisfied.

And that was why she stole his pride—his only true joy, and the one thing that could make him the happiest man on Earth.

She stole his love. His _light._

She stole his Yuugi, leaving him to pick up the shattered pieces of his broken, bruised heart.

--

The rain continued to fall. It was like Heaven was crying, transferring its tears to those below.

Two years. It had been two years since the accident that had claimed the life of one Yuugi Motou. Friend, companion, light, and lover.

_His soul._

The young man glanced up, ignoring the constant beating of the precipitation that pounded from the black skies above, causing droplets of rain to slide down his face.

Exactly two years. And yet, the images were fresh in his mind: A harmless stroll, gunshots, and finally, death.

Of course, the men had been apprehended, their charges being two accounts of manslaughter, one of murder in the first degree, and attempted robbery.

Hell was too good for them. Or so he figured.

"Mourning your lover, Sennen?"

"I wouldn't expect you to understand, Kaiba."

It was almost like a tradition now—a ceremony. At the beginning it had been an annoying side effect. He'd come to place roses on his lover's grave, only to be interrupted by the cerulean-eyed CEO and his constant mockery. They'd argue, they'd yell—once they had even gotten into a physical fight, the effect staying with the once-Pharaoh for the next two weeks. Stress relief, Kaiba had said the next time they met.

Bastard.

"Acting like a sap won't bring him back."

"Acting like an asshole won't make me stop."

A routine. They'd meet, they'd argue; they'd leave.

But this time was different.

"It wasn't your fault, you know."

"How many times have I told you that, Sennen?"

"Since the first time I met you here."

"And how many times have you listened?"

A smirk.

"I don't."

Silence. They just waited, watching each other before the taller figure grunted, turning around.

"Until next time, Sennen."

--

Crimson eyes blinked. Three years. One thousand ninety-five days.

And still he came. Still he brought roses.

Still he met up with the infuriating CEO.

"I said hello to Mokuba for you. I think he was grateful for the company."

"Talking to dead people, Sennen?"

They left it at that, though the smaller knew that the cerulean-eyed other was grateful.

"Sometimes I wonder why I keep coming back," he suddenly spoke, stealing the crimson-eyed man's attention. "I wonder why _you _keep coming back. Three bloody years, Pharaoh. Every month the same flowers; every month the same mindless arguments."

"It's because I love him."

"_Loved _him."

"You can love the dead, Kaiba," the smaller said softly. "Mokuba's death hasn't prevented you from loving him, I know. You wouldn't bother otherwise."

"Maybe I came here to see you."

"Can't get enough of me, Kaiba? I always knew you were hiding something."

"You're so witty, Pharaoh. Tell me, did your lover appreciate your wit?"

"Yes."

"Hmm."

A tanned hand reached out to lightly stroke the blood-red roses that rested in front of the white marble headstone. A soft sigh escaped his lips, causing him to rest that same hand on the marker and lean forward.

"A puzzling thought, Kaiba."

The CEO didn't answer—his way of prompting the other to continue.

"I sometimes wonder if I will ever love again. I wonder if the same thing applies to you. I know how much Mokuba meant to you. He was a wonderful kid."

A memory.

"_Hello, Atemu."_

"_Mokuba?" The once-Pharaoh looked up in surprise. "I didn't expect to see you here."_

"_Nii-sama couldn't make it. He asked if I wanted to come instead… Yuugi was my friend, too."_

"_Of course." Atemu smiled lightly, moving so the brunette could see the headstone. "Would you like to say hello?"_

"_Okay." No 'Why are you talking to a piece of rock, Pharaoh?' no 'Speaking to him won't him back.' Just a simple "Okay." A child's naïve acceptance._

_He couldn't have asked for a more pleasant distraction._

"_Hello, Yuugi," Mokuba said, crawling into Atemu's lap and smiling at the stone. "It's me, Mokuba! Atemu said I could say hi. Do you miss me? I know you miss Atemu. He misses you, too. Did you hear about Joey? He's a big-shot duelist in America now! I know you're proud of him! You were always telling us what a great duelist he'd be." Mokuba paused, glancing at Atemu as if looking for silent permission to continue. Atemu nodded, smiling._

"_Tea's a famous dancer now. Well, maybe not famous inter… inter…"_

"_Internationally?"_

"_Internationally—" Mokuba grinned at Atemu in silent thanks "—but locally. Tristan and Duke even opened a small shop near here. Atemu won't tell me what they sell. You'll tell me, won't you, Yuugi? Or you'll get him to? He really needs to talk to people more. So does my nii-sama…" Mokuba trailed off. "Well, that's all I wanted to say, really. I hope you're happy… wherever you are. And don't worry about Atemu! I'll take care of him!"_

_A small breeze stirred, brushing Atemu's cheek and ruffling Mokuba's hair, causing the crimson-eyed duelist to smile._

"_Do you think he heard me?" Mokuba asked, gray eyes wide._

"_I know he did."_

Reminiscence. It was painful, but he loved it. He knew Kaiba did, too.

"Kaiba, have you ever wondered why you're so closed off?" The crimson-eyed man suddenly asked, looking over at the mentioned businessman.

"I don't wonder, Sennen. I know."

"Care to share that reasoning, Kaiba? Or are you going to make me guess?" A stubborn silence and icy glare was met by a smirk. "I'll right, Kaiba, I'll bite."

The response he got was a guttural growl. Hardly encouraging, but not deterring in the least. He had been expecting it.

"You're afraid."

"Seto Kaiba is not afraid."

Atemu tilted his head to the side, blinking slowly.

"You're afraid to let someone else into your heart. Even when Mokuba was alive you were afraid. You didn't want to give your enemies another target. You didn't want anyone else to get hurt. You put Mokuba above your own happiness… you always did." The shorter duelist then paused, his head slightly inclined to the right. "You're afraid to love."

"And you're afraid to love again."

A sad smile flickered across the ex-Pharaoh's face. "In a way, yes. But perhaps with time…"

"Hasn't three years been enough, Sennen?" Kaiba snapped. Atemu growled, starting to lose his patience rather suddenly at that remark.

"Like I said once before: I wouldn't expect you to understand." He stood, grabbing his pack and walking out of the cemetery, ignoring the sudden chorus of wind that swirled behind him.

--

Five years.

He had not been back here for some time. It was almost painful to stand here, hand curled around the wrought-iron gate that barred entrance to souls of the dead concealed and buried beyond.

_Five years…_

"Sennen." He turned, eyes resting on the black limousine that had pulled up on the curb.

"Kaiba," he returned, voice strong and commanding once more. Kaiba smirked.

"Get in the car, Sennen."

And he complied.

--

The drive was filled with silence, though it was not uncomfortable. But silence can only prevail for so long.

"You skipped town, Sennen. Two years. Not once did you return."

"I was busy."

"Ah…" The shorter duelist turned, his eyes narrowing at the self-satisfied sound that had escaped his rival's mouth. "Busy. You have let go?"

"Well that depends, Kaiba. Have you?"

Kaiba just grunted. Atemu had his answer.

"I'm not asking you to give him up completely, Atemu. You can still love him, but hanging onto the past can only drag you down."

"Yes. I know." Atemu turned to look at Kaiba, not showing his surprise at the CEO's blatant use of his real name. "I know I will always love him. He was more than just a lover—he was part of my soul."

"None of your sappy laments, please," Kaiba said. Atemu scowled, turning to look back out the tinted windows.

"At least I'm not hiding from the world. You can let me off here, Kaiba." They had approached the Kame Game shop. Crisp leaves blew in front of it, making the shop looked almost deserted. Atemu felt guilty about leaving Solomon to sort out the whole thing by himself, but the urge to get away, to forget… it had been far too powerful.

Atemu turned back to see Kaiba watching him intently. The guilt came back; striking him in the gut with such force that a ragged exhale escaped his lips. He was shaking now.

"How can you manage it, Kaiba? Your mother, your father, your _brother… _It's like nothing to you."

He was suddenly aware of strong arms wrapping around him, and he felt grateful for the comforting—if not unexpected—embrace. He rested his head on Kaiba's chest, trying to steady his breathing as nimble fingers ran through his tri-colored locks.

"Years of practice."

"Can you imagine me acting like that?" Atemu laughed, not being able to help himself. He knew why the CEO acted the way he did, and he knew it was hard.

He knew more about Seto Kaiba than he had first thought. He lightly placed one hand on Kaiba's chest, arching one regal brow. "I know you pain over Mokuba, Seto. It must be great indeed." He felt the CEO stiffen with surprise, but he didn't pause. "I know how much you love him, and I always knew how hard it was for you there in the cemetery. It was a hard blow… a low blow. And yet—" the Millennium Eye glowed faintly on his forehead "—you continue to grow stronger from it, Kaiba. Your inner strength is like nothing I have ever seen before." He felt the arms tighten around his waist. He almost laughed, really—at himself. He knew he was strong, and he knew he could have let go of Yuugi years ago. But he had not. He had clung to the past, unsure of where to go. That was why he had left. He had needed to get away from this place—this place that had held a spot in his heart for so long. This place that bound him, twisted and enslaved him. No more. No more. It would always be there, he knew: the pangs of longing for those dead and buried. A human trait he had finally understood.

A pair of lips descended onto his own, and he smiled inwardly. The kiss was feather-light, but he understood just what Kaiba was trying to show him; what he was offering him.

His soul; his heart.

Atemu broke the kiss, breathing ragged—exactly like the man he was currently resting against. "Do you sometimes wish I had been like that?" The question was late, he knew, but it was important to him somehow.

"No. And that is why I love you."

--

Kaiba had never asked him to give up anything. He was supportive and gentle, something Atemu had never expected to find. And somehow the rumored Ice Prince had managed to carve a permanent hole in his heart, immediately filling it with love.

Atemu was sure he had been this happy once, a long, long time ago. Had it really been six and a half years?

He was twenty-three; Kaiba was twenty-five. He had been seventeen… Six and a half years since Yuugi's death. Five years to let go completely. His partner—his light—would always hold a piece of his heart, in death as he had in life. And he accepted that. But, surprisingly, it was Kaiba who now held him so completely, captivating him with one simple glance.

A double-edged sword.

It was human to hold onto those deceased, wishing against hope that somehow, someone would take pity on you and bring them back. To hold on to the past was like trying to hold water in a container full of holes. You could always retain some of it, but it eventually slipped past, and no matter how hard you tried, you could never get it all back.

He never thought Kaiba would be the one to patch up the holes, to show him a bright future, to show him that they were both, indeed, human.

"Atemu…" Atemu laughed as he felt a pair of warm lips against his throat—the part of the ruthless businessman that only he got to see.

"Yes?" He reached up, pulling the CEO's head down for another kiss. "What is it?"

Kaiba was silent for a moment as he wrapped one arm around his petite lover's waist. The balcony they stood on was painted a golden orange by the setting sun's rays, basking the two men in its light. Atemu chuckled lightly, tugging on Seto's hair. "Interrupting my thinking again, Seto?"

"Mmm… Yes, love. It's a favorite pastime of mine."

Atemu rolled his eyes. "I don't understand how you can effectively create and kill a mood so quickly."

Kaiba just smirked, causing the shorter duelist to scowl.

"You are so irritating."

"But you love me anyway," Kaiba said, leaning down to kiss the crimson-eyed ex-Pharaoh softly.

"Yes," Atemu replied, cracking one eye open with a chuckle. "I do. I love you, Seto Kaiba."

"As I love you, Atemu Sennen."

They stood like that for a few more moments before Kaiba kissed him again and walked back inside, leaving his shorter lover to stand at the edge of the balcony for a while longer, arms crossed contently over his chest.

You could never hold on to those you loved forever. You always had to let them go eventually, he knew. And he had. He would always love Yuugi, just as Mokuba would always hold a place in Kaiba's heart. But that couldn't stop them from loving each other, no matter how odd the circumstances that had brought them together in the first place. For the turmoil of death and broken hearts had drawn them to each other: Fate's reward. Because yes, while the world certainly seemed cruel, there were results that could give even the most tragic events a happy ending. All you had to do was let go. Live your life. For while nothing could stop you from remembering, you alone held the ultimate decision—the ultimate choice. Stay, or go. Live, or die.

It was their choice.

Saisir le jour.

Carpe diem.

And at last he understood.


End file.
